The Fourteenth Great Jedi War left deep wounds across the surface of Arx. One such victim, unnoticed by the Brotherhood at large, was the Corrino Research Laboratory on the marshy continent of Uskil. The Collective had assaulted the Shadow Academy's Nesolat platform to gain access to the surface of Arx, its strategic importance dwarfing its role as an isolated research facility. When the battle moved to the planet's surface, the Nesolat was discarded like so much chaff, and debris from the disintegrating station was scattered across the planet.

Some of that debris struck the specimen habitat, damaging them enough for the specimens contained within to escape into Uskil’s swampy wilderness. In the aftermath of the invasion, playing animal control was a low priority for the Iron Throne, but the beasts became more of a nuisance—and even a danger—as time went on. Their exposure to the maelstrom of Force energies around Uskil, stirred up by the Grand Master’s ritual during the invasion, has made the creatures aggressive and unpredictable.

Rather than wandering Uskil’s swampy, storm-soaked wildlands, many of the escaped beasts have since returned to their ruined habitats, finding the climate more to their liking; it was designed for them, after all. They’ve since become extremely territorial, attacking any Shadow Academy staff who try to remove them so the habitats can be rebuilt. Rather than continue to delay the Academy’s research and sacrifice hapless construction workers and lab technicians, the Headmistress has put out a call to any members of the Brotherhood who are willing to help with the problem.

Your goal in this scenario is to subdue and capture the hostile creature so that it can be transported to a different facility for further testing. As the creature has been modified by the Academy’s scientists, the Headmistress would strongly prefer that you capture it alive, rather than killing it and forcing the researchers to make do with data from a dead specimen.

“Shenron! Ohhh, Shenron! Here boy, c’mon out!”

Wyndell Tyris’s hide boots splashed merrily through the muddy murk as he cupped his hands around the corners of his mouth and continued to yell at the top of his lungs. If the sticky, dank air of Uskil bothered him, he certainly did not show it.

Fortunately, Alaisy Tir’eivra’s high heels spared her the full joy of sloshing through the marshy terrain. She could still hear the sound, however, and hissed air out of her sealed mask in an ongoing sign of disgust.

“I don’t think this…’Shenron’ you’re trying to summon is listening,” Alaisy’s modulated voice was the only answer the dark-haired Defender received.

“I swear, he usually loves this spot. I come visit him anytime I need to do a drive-by at the Shadow Academy.” Wyn stroked at an imaginary beard that was clearly not present on his otherwise roguish visage. His emerald eyes continued to scan the marshes as he resumed his search for an alleged dragonsnake, surely attracting the attention of any predatory beast that might be nearby.

Perhaps that explained why Alaisy had agreed to go along with Wyn. If anything, it would make it easier for her to hunt down and find her true quarry with the Force Disciple serving as the perfect decoy.

“Kist!” Wyn swore suddenly as he swatted at the exposed skin of his neck. Tyris wore a nerf-hide jacket with a green tunic, pants, and black hide boots. While this was the usual attire Alaisy had come to expect him in, she was mildly surprised he had not chosen to wear any other kind of armor or technology.

Sssspppsssssss

Alaisy blinked a few times behind her opaque visor as she watched Wyn spray some kind of can all over himself. When he noticed her looking, the Defender offered a boyish, carefree grin. “What? It’s bug spray. Want some?”

The tall Sith sighed, air depressing audibly from the vents in her vacuum-sealed mask. Wyn already knew that her answer would be no, but was probably using it as another excuse to look at her form-fitting body-glove. The alchemically-treated latex enveloped Alaisy like a second skin, leaving no flesh exposed to the elements. Bug bites were probably the lowest item on her list of actual concerns.

“The lab should be just up ahead. With a ritual like the one we experienced during the War, there’s no telling how much it affected the existing experiments the researchers were implementing,” Alaisy sucked in air, a faint hint of budding excitement in the Sith’s voice. While some would consider the concept of mutated beasts running rampant terrifying, Alaisy Tir’eivra saw it as an invaluable opportunity for her Sith studies.

Wyn, to his credit, did not show any sign of fear or trepidation. He simply seemed to be enjoying being out on another crazy adventure. He idly patted the hilts of his twin LL-30’s, and a now familiar Bryar Rifle was slung over his back. Alaisy had seen the Elder—she refused his request to call him ‘Master’ for multiple reasons—in action, though. While he appeared to be aloof and intentionally irritating, he was worth his weight when a situation went south.

She would never admit it, of course, but she was glad that he had agreed to join her.

As the two Arconans approached the Corrino Research Laboratory, their mutual sphere of awareness through the Force whispered a single word: danger. Alaisy and Wyn exchanged a quick glance, but continued onward. Both did notably move a hand closer to their respective weapons.

The laboratories, or what were once certainly laboratories, looked nothing like the holos that played on the vidscreens in transports leading to and from Uskil. Vegetation grew rampant and without curation, creating gnarly knots of overgrown roots and toppled trees. Transparisteel glass was scattered in every direction and combined with fallen pieces of shrapnel from the aerial war that had waged over the planet's atmosphere. There were imprints of large, monstrous feet in the mud, claw marks etched into durasteel beams and missing chunks of duracrete walls. The “Hot Labs” had definitely seen better days.

Without speaking, the duo realized that the map they had been provided would be next to useless. None of the connecting bridges or pathways still stood. New paths had been formed organically as the now-free creatures established their own means of transportation and territorial lines. The smell of decaying vegetation was ripe and pungent, mingling with the unmanaged waste mixed with mud and the musk of mating rituals.

“I’m starting to get a bad feeling about—”

Aliasy hissed, cutting Wyn off before he could finish the famous line that almost always lead to something going terribly wrong.

Wrrrraaaaaaaghhhh......

A distant wail sang out from deeper within the ruined complex. A second wail answered it. Then a third. They were getting louder with each caterwaul.

“We should go...” Wyn whispered loudly.

In defiance of the very notion, Alaisy activated her double-bladed crimson lightsaber, vibro-clawed fingernails gripping around the chromium hilt as she bent her knees and readied for what was to come.

“Okay, so we’re doing this,” Wyn grumbled as his twin LL-30’s appeared in his hands in one smooth, fluid motion.

And then a rathtar of unusually large size came rolling out of the shadows like some kind of bulbous, organic droideka. Instead of a bubble shield, however, a tangle of tentacles unfurled and lashed out into the open air as its radial mouth lined with razor-sharp teeth let out a feral battle cry.

***

In times like these, Wyndell Tyris usually had a holodex of whimsical quotes from a catalog of holonet dramas.

Instead, he simply said, “Meep-meep,” and started running in the opposite direction of the creatures responsible for the Trillia Massacre. Allegedly...

Alaisy whipped her head around as her rage started to bubble. However, as she had suspected earlier, the creature did seem to be focused solely on Wyn, which gave her the perfect opening.

“Why,” Wyn questioned no one in particular as he blindly alternated firing each blaster over the opposite shoulder, “did it,” the LL-30’s screeched their blue-white bolts towards the beast, “have to be,” the rathtar continued its pursuit, unperturbed, “rathtars?” Wyn finished. The creature propelled itself hungrily towards the fleeing Defender, but Wyn parkoured somewhat clumsily over a toppled pile of rubble and ducked for cover.

***

Alaisy took full advantage of the distraction. Her high-clasped ponytail trailed behind her like a warrior’s plume as she skated towards the creature's flank on towering, bladed heels. The Dark Side came effortlessly to her, as it teemed in the very air of Arx. Augmenting her speed, she leapt into the air, spun adroitly, and cut through two of the rathtar’s tentacles.

The creature let out a howl of pain, high-pitched and blood-curdling. Alaisy ignored it and pressed in with a purpose and cut down a third tentacle with a spin of her saberstaff. A few more steps would bring her close to the creature's bulbous body, and then the Sith would have it bend to her mercy.

The rathtar, however, seemed to have more tentacles in reserve. More than the ones she had studied in her research. The extra set lashed out towards the towering woman. Tir’eivra twisted away from the first, but the second snuck past her guard and wrapped its slimy tendrils around her leg. The suction cups latched on to Alaisy’s latex body-glove, saving her skin from anything save for the crushing pressure it applied. The tentacle flexed as it lashed her up into the air and then suspended her upside down.

“WYNDELL!” Alaisy shouted, her voice modulator amplifying her voice. A second tentacle tried to wrap itself around her slender waist, but even with her equilibrium inverted, she managed to deftly slice it away with her saberstaff.

“HOLD ON!” Wyn yelled back as he peeked over the edge of his cover. He seemed to be taking a detailed mental picture of the scene before him. “I’ve seen this on the holonet before, and this is like...three, no, four of the things on my list—”

“—WYN” she snapped with a whip of command in her tone.

“—OKAY!” Wyn replied as he readied his bryar rifle. The Master held down the trigger to charge it, and then let loose a yellow spear of light that lanced right into the rathtar’s open mouth and seemed to cause it to reel back and lose its focus.

Alaisy took advantage and, with her free hand, let loose a blast of Force Lightning that caused the rathtar to shake and shriek and convulse. A second charge from Wyndell’s bryar rifle was enough to put it down.

Alaisy pushed herself to her feet as Wyndell dipped out of cover and moved towards her to see if she was okay.

That, of course, was when the second rathtar roared and rolled into the Hot Lab.

A pulsating pain began to grow, burning, screaming, it ebbed away and returned again. The sucker marks that the Rathtar left behind on her symbiote began to take priority as the tall Sith’s muscles relaxed. Senses that were picked up by the alchemical latex were transferred to Tir’eivra as if it was her own skin. However, the area of her suit around her leg did begin to slowly recover as Alaisy radiated dark side energy. It fed and mended, the dark aura bristling as the black-clad woman readied her mind for another Rathtar.

Wyndell’s heart shook, turning his head around as he heard the monstrous bellow. His emerald eyes darted around, searching for movement.

Alaisy kept her saberstaff at the ready, glowing bright crimson.

Click, clack, click, clack

High heels on an uneven floor echoed through the hallways and made their way in front of the older Tyris half-brother.

“Ahh, a much better view if I say so myself,” he spouted with a cocksure voice, yet it wavered slightly at the end, adding a hint of concern. The roguish Human sidestepped away from the Sith’s spinelike weapon. The buzzing noise of her lightsaber made him feel even more uneasy than the organic sploshing and horrifying screeching coming from the hot lab hallways.

The tall woman was not immune to the fear that the roaring instilled in her heart either. The sound of the yowling sent adrenaline through her body each time it passed by. She could feel her heartbeat in her chest and wrists, almost giving her a sense of vertigo. The sound of rattling debris and clattering tiles came closer and closer as it searched for the duo.

“We are lucky those orbs on their rotund bodies are not the keenest senses,” Alaisy’s Imperial voice muttered as hissing permeated from her facemask. Her breathing seemed to be much shorter and faster.

Both Wyn and Alaisy almost jumped as they saw a glimpse of the Rathtar roll past a broken doorpost straight ahead of them. Rubble piled through the opening as its bulbous, overgrown body pushed everything aside. Somehow it fit through the dilapidated and broken-down laboratory passageways.

Then it spun up again, audible from the increase in frequency of cracking tiles it broke along the way. It came back, suddenly extending all of its tendrils. They snaked along the doorpost, causing dust to fall atop its sensing globes. The teeth-laden organic mass shook the small particles off that settled on its sensory bulbs and appeared thrice the size with its long tentacles stretched out.

The first thing the Rathtar noticed was its fallen compatriot. Then it took in the radiating and buzzing saberstaff. It roared furiously at the Sith and Defender. But to their surprise, it sucked back in all of its tentacles and rolled away, deeper into the experimental and dystopian testing grounds.

Wyn’s first instinct was to hug the slender and tall woman’s frame, but her chrome saber took that comforting thought away. A sigh of relief produced a whistle of air from her mask’s outlet.

The blood red light dimmed as Tir’eivra depressed the Chromium Spine’s power button. Natural, soft, yellow light from Arx Primus now solely lit the ruined complex.

“Pack hunters, these Rathtar. For some reason it did not like seeing its little associate lying dead on the floor. My hypothesis is that it is going to find succor,” Alaisy grit her teeth as she spoke with a hint of worry in her modulated voice.

“Well I, for one, am shocked and terrified. Shall we go now?” Wyndell said with his hands on his hips. His green eyes looked towards Tir’eivra, feeling rather taken aback by the view. His sight followed the Sith making her way towards the slain biological blob and saw her shiny form kneeling down.

She sought out one of its mutated appendages and pressed into its rubbery flesh with her vibro-nails. The toughness made it hard to cut, but with some grunting and determination she managed to slice off a piece.

Welp, I wonder if she makes a habit of slicing into protuberances.

Tyris’ face turned into a grimace as the Sith stuffed the matter inside of a small sealed container.

Meanwhile, the beast was going from one corridor to the next — the duo could hear rumbling in the distance — but its calls were emitting a sound inaudible to Humans.

“Shall we? The Shadow Academy wants one alive. Perhaps we can lure one behind a door, or cut off enough of its limbs so that it will just stick its gaping mouth onto the floor. Oh, and if you think we are done, well, I believe they are fast enough to catch up with us before we can leave. So, 'Adventure?'” Alaisy snapped her fingers at the man, something not easy to do when wearing latex gloves.

Wyndel had his arms crossed over his chest at first, sticking up his nose, but when she mentioned ‘Adventure,’ how could he possibly resist?

“Adventure!” Wyn barked with renewed enthusiasm. Unfortunately, the woman he was supposed to follow into certain death was already pacing ahead. He gathered his wits and hobbled after her.

As they made their way through the demolished doorpost they saw the trail of destruction that rolling nightmare left behind. The middle of the corridor lay empty with all of the debris and broken tiles pressed to either side against the walls. The way that led to the outside had its roof collapsed, while the other direction had bones, sinew, slime trails and dried blood strewn over its length. The deeper they went into the hot labs complex, the more old bodily remains they found. Even through air scrubbers Alaisy noticed the increasingly foul smell. Before long Wyndell also complained about the smell of rotting flesh.

They had arrived at a crossing. A room in front of them was sealed by a heavy blast door, plastered with various warning signs. Most notable were signs indicating toxic and irritating chemicals. The hallway to the left was dark, with stone tiles fallen from the sides and broken down rafters, computer consoles and medical equipment. The right hallway was filled with skeletal remains, strange gloopy webbing and much smaller-bodied, fused Rathtar that had dried out and possibly died from failed fission reproduction.

A stomp of Alaisy’s heavy platformed boot made it clear that she preferred the way to the right. She was convinced they would find their prey there. Wyn seemed to fiddle uncomfortably and looked upwards at the massive woman’s black-domed mask.

“Well, this is terribly inconvenient. Shouldn’t we go back?” He tapped his fingers nervously against each other.

“No, shh, listen. Do you hear that?” Alaisy remained still as a statue, ringing metal parts of her attire slowly coming to a standstill. There was a sound of dripping water, vents whirring and electricity popping. With enough focus and a tap into the Force, Wyn also heard a sound of fleshy squelching coming from the ventilator shafts. Some of the fans surprisingly still worked, but it seemed that some of the horrors had made their lair inside of the ones that had broken down. A feeling of fear emanated from nearby creatures. It was difficult for both the Sith and Defender to lock down just how far away or large the creatures were, but they seemed protective of their territory.

Without hesitation the tall woman made determined loud steps forward. All Wyndell wanted was to stay as close as possible to her, carefully avoiding any of the slimy stuff as he followed at her heels.

A large metal door with a massive pulled open hole awaited them. There was room for them to fit through and trails of slime made them suspect that Rathtars likely could too. Once they climbed through they saw a room full of damaged machinery. Artificial lights still worked, although the pulsating crimson color indicated an ongoing emergency lockdown. Some constructs clearly seemed designed to restrain very sizable creatures. On the opposite end there were heavy doors that looked like prison cells or cages; some were unlocked but none looked like they were opened by force. Large cylindrical tubes adorned the room, some of which were still filled with a kind of fluid.

The Sith slid a clawed finger over one of the transparisteel tubes, which on closer inspection were filled with immature Rathtars.

A horrendous roar shook the both of them. One of the cylinders popped and spread a lifeless corpse over the synthetic laboratory floor, along with all of the blueish goop. Alaisy reached for her Chromium Spine and Tyris reached for his appropriately named Yeet Cannon. A much larger than usual Rathtar rolled in front of them.

Then a splatter and squelch was heard behind them. Another Rathtar landed its bulbous body on the cold floor as it detached its club-like tentacle tips from the metal rosters above it. A metal plate dropped down on top of it. The beast batted it away with little effort. Both monsters were moving their gigantic, tooth-filled maws around, but no discernable sound was made, or they were simply unable to hear its frequency.

“They must be communicating,” Alaisy muttered, dialing her vocal modulator down.

“Deciding which part of us they want to eat first, no doubt! Now if you let me, I will conjure up a bubble for us. I do not want to be touched by one of these things!” The Elder started chanting a phrase as he let the Force flow through him, “Yu-Mo-Gui-Gwai-Fai-Di-Zao.”

Alaisy scissored the vibronails of her unarmed hand together, between each blade. It produced a high ringing metallic sound, much like an insect rubbing its textured wings together. Her hand then started dancing, as if drawing runes within thin air. Her black-domed visor stared at the Rathtar in front of her, which seemed to hold its many tentacles up in an intimidating fashion.

Then she tapped further into the dark side, all the terrible memories flickered by, passions ran deep and the taste of fear sizzled on the tip of her tongue. Every animal had its fears, the most primal emotion of them all. She grit her teeth behind her mask’s nose-cup and summoned a horde of invisible mind tendrils, sending them at the posturing flesh blob. So long as it stood there, she kept weaving her spell. They crept and slithered towards the Rathtar’s small, primitive brain. The tall woman swerved with her body as she dove deeper, clawing with her hand as if playing with her new marionette.

Dread slowly settled in on the beast’s amygdala, tearing its emotional salience apart. The threat of the tall, slender, black-clad figure in front of the Rathtar reached catastrophic levels. Giant tentacles began to shiver and retreat, curling into themselves. Then it completely froze, so afraid that it became unable to even move.

Alaisy licked her lips as she tasted a flavour of horror that she had never experienced before. The Rathtar in front of her could not even hear its companion across its view anymore, its mind filled with the most basic natural fears.

Then the tendrils of the other beast crashed down onto Wyn’s see-through orb. The tip of the first tentacle tapped it lightly, feeling it out. A second appendage hit a tad harder. Then the beast bellowed furiously, causing another of the transparisteel tubes to pop, crackle and splash from the sonic vibration. The giant Rathtar maw moved its rows of teeth hungrily in front of the roguish Human, who seemed to lose track of his own chanting.

The monster heaved up another limb, meaning to hit it much harder than it did before.

“One,” Wyndel whined and breathed heavily, “more,” he gasped and a smile formed in the corner of his mouth, “thing!” he shouted as he jumped out of the way of the crushing blow and snatched his briar rifle.

Artificial flooring made the impact of the tentacle sound like a wet towel on plasteel. The Rathtar screeched in return. Then a low hum slashed the tip off. Alaisy retreated her Chromium Spine and pivoted her hips. She turned her head and peeked back at the stunned beast behind her. A large blaster bolt flung into the maw of the wailing monster as Wyn’s Yeet Cannon let loose its charge. It burned through the hollow tongue inside its throat, causing it to fling around all of its tentacles.

The Rathtar’s massive club-like tendrils bashed on support pillars inside of the hot labs room. Dust and debris fell down from the ceiling together with vent caps, bolts and transparisteel from pulsing lights.

“Hey, Alaisy. While we’re here, would you describe me as cool? Be honest, now—" The half-brother kept his knees bent and legs spread as he attempted to hold his balance. The place was shaking apart and the monster in front of them only swung its tendrils out more frantically as pieces dropped on top of its giant body. The other Rathtar broke into a complete panic and fearfully rolled away from the assailants, desperately looking for an exit, away from its crazed and flailing colleague.

“Not the time to be cool, Wyn! Time to be a good coward. Find an exit, quickly!” Tir’eivra shouted, vocal modulator set to full volume.

Wyn crossed his arms and eyed the latex-clad woman with a furrowed brow. “Look, I’ve been trying not to make any mentions to backdoors this entire mission—”

“WYN!”

“—okay, okay, looking!” The Defender had, of course, already been doing just that. As the facility continued to collapse, he noted a shattered window frame with a faint light coming from the other side of it. “There!” he pointed as he slung his bryar rifle over his shoulder.

Alaisy’s eyes tracked to the window frame and she started to race towards it, but Wyn thrust a hand out and stopped her in place. The towering Sith looked down at him with a look that would have cowed most organics. Wyn folded his arms across his chest, defiantly meeting her gaze. His performance was enough to mask his actual mixture of fear and excitement.

“You need to apologize to the rathtar first,” he explained.

The facility literally continued to collapse around them. How they had not been crushed already, Tir’eivra did not know, but it was probably the only thing that prevented her from slapping the Defender across the face. That, and the fact that he’d probably like it.

“You can’t just tell a rathtar your tentacles are bigger than its tentacles.” Wyn rolled his eyes and gestured towards the fleeing, terrified rathtar. “They are sensitive to that kind of thing.”

“You...have been spending way too much time with Atyiru,” Alaisy hissed. “We don’t have time!”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Wyn conceded, turning his back on the Sith and making a run for the makeshift exit. Aliasy followed, bladed heels making just as much noise as the collapsing rubble around them.

Just as the two were about to make an easy jump through the opening, a large durasteel beam came crashing down at a sharp angle towards the two Arconans. They weren’t going to make it, and Alaisy did not seem to register the danger.

Time deconstructed. Adrenaline surged. Wyn pushed past his primal fears, and his desire to defend overrode any logical sense of self preservation. The Defender snaked his arm around Alaisy’s slender waist and pulled her against him. The Sith whipped her head towards him, furious and confused at the same time. Her mask and his face were close enough that he could see through her visor and meet her eyes. Close enough to see the emerald ring and flecks of gold in their smokey hue...

There were hundreds of one-liners he had saved up for moments like this. Instead, he found himself simply smiling as he used a subtle dance step to switch places with Alaisy, putting his body between her and the fast falling beam. The Sith’s eyes widened in realization.

Everything lurched back into real-time. At the last possible second, Wyn threw his free hand up and defiantly manifested his will into a half-dome shield. The Defender’s translucent barrier met the slab of heavy metal head on, deflecting it away and into the rest of the collapsing room. The barrier shattered on impact, and the recoil of the raw, repulsive force sent both Wyn and Alaisy crashing through the narrow opening. They landed on top of one another, hard, and in a mess of tangled limbs.

The window closed under a layer of debris. The room was dark but less dank than the rest of the facility. The broken terminals and toppled data record cabinets marked it clearly as an observation room. There also seemed to be a lack of overgrown vegetation, creature nests, or dens of slimy ichor. It was also quiet, just the distant din of trickling water from burst pipes and failing environmental generators.

As the dust settled, Alaisy found herself laying prone atop Wyn. Despite their significant height difference, the Sith’s latex-gloved chest pressed firmly against Wyndell’s torso, her hips level with his. The razor-tipped fingernails of each gauntlet dug into the tile flooring on either side of his head like a sand-panther pinning its prey.

“He...heh...” Wyn started to laugh, but then sputtered and coughed up a glob of blood to the side, careful not to get any on Alaisy. He felt something sharp digging into the skin of his lower back.

Tir’eivra’s eyes widened as she quickly moved over and took a knee next to the injured Tyris. She spotted the source of the wound almost immediately—a long jagged spear of petrified wood from a broken desk leg. Wyndell had now, knowingly or not, spared the shiny Sith from two ill-fates, sacrificing his body to do so.

“Well...I guess it would be nice...” Wyn started to sing in a surprisingly soothing low tenor. He started coughing and tried to sit up, but Alaisy stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “If I could touch...your body...I know not everybody, got a body like...” he sputtered, “...me.”

“Wyn, I know you’re in a lot of pain right now but I need you to be quiet for once,” Alaisy spoke calmly and with command. To her surprise, the Defender actually listened and closed his mouth. She moved one hand to the splintered table leg and gripped it tightly while gathering a handful of Wyn’s tunic. “I can heal the wound, but we’re going to have to pull out that—”

“—hehe—”

“—uuugh!” Alaisy groaned in frustration as she rolled her eyes. Before Wyn could attempt another innuendo, Tir’eivra held firm against the table leg while yanking Wyn forward and away from it.

Wyndell let out a high-pitched paean of pain, shuddering and then trying to stay calm as blood began to soak freely into the fabric of his tunic.

“There, now hold still and don’t speak,” the Sith spoke with authority as she hovered one hand over the wound. Behind the airseal of her mask, Alaisy’s lips began to whisper an incantation in the Ancient Sith tongue. Wyn had teased for similar things in the past, but for now he simply watched her with a glossy look in his jade-colored eyes.

Healing worked differently for every Force User. Wyn had always visualized his own as a rejuvenating bath, but Alaisy clearly approached things differently. As she continued to chant, the dark side itself seemed to siphon towards his fingertips, casting its tendrils out into the open wound. Wyndell turned his head away, so he did not see what exactly Alaisy did from that point on.

When she removed her hand, however, the wound was closed, and Wyn looked significantly less pale. He sat up and patted at his stomach. “Huh, neat. Thanks, Alais—”

Wyndell looked up to meet Alaisy’s eyes, but felt the blood drain from his face almost immediately. The shiny Sith was looking at him with a haughty, almost hungry expression. Her chest rose and sank heavily and he could have sworn he heard her lick her lips. “Uh...Alaisy?”

Hearing her name seemed to bring the latex-clad woman back to her usual demeanor. Her eyes became less wild around the edges, and she looked down to see that Wyndell’s wound was indeed healed. “Ah, you’re better, then. Can you move?”

Wyn nodded and pushed himself back up to his feet. He wanted to ask her more about what had happened just now, but realized there was probably a better time to discuss it. “Yeah, I feel great, actually. Thank you.”

There were more words for the two to exchange, but both seemed to reach the same conclusion: later.

“Do you hear that?” Wyn asked.

“Yes. The flow of water,” Alaisy nodded. “Probably leads out to a drain by the swamps.”

“Probably a good way out…?” Wyn suggested but left the question open ended.

“We were tasked with taking one alive, but yes, it seems illogical to try and take the beasts on in these closed confines.”

With the two Arconans in agreement, they set off through the complex following the sound of water. Wyndell stayed quiet, on account of keeping his full focus on concealing both their presences through the Force. Alaisy, in turn, lead the way out, the click-clack of her bladed heels more of a deterrent than invitation to their would-be attackers. It seemed that the other creatures knew to be wary of anything that could bully a rathtar.

***

The Arconan duo emerged, as anticipated, from a drainage pipe that emptied into the swamps surrounding the Corrino Research Laboratory. Alaisy went first, with a much more relaxed-looking Wyndell trailing.

“Alright, so we agree to regroup and gather more supplies,” the black-clad woman repeated.

“Makes sense, and at least now we know where—” Wyndell’s response was cut off by the sound of a familiar wailing and the gnashing of rathtar tentacles. Sure enough, a rathtar rolled out from one of the other drainage pipes, funnel-shaped mouth snarling and snapping open and closed as it unfurled its mutated surplus of slimy appendages.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me...” Alaisy hissed.

While the rathtar were hard to tell apart, there was something in the way that this one in particular seemed to want both of them dead.

“See! I told you you should have apologized!” Wyn chirped as he readied his Bryar Rifle.

Alaisy seethed as she ignited Chromium Spine, augmenting her speed through the Force as she charged the rathtar she had previously haunted head-on. Before she could get close enough to strike at the lashing tentacles, something burst from the surface of the murky water behind the rathtar.

A long, serpentine creature with a head shaped like a reptilian dragon roared and bared its rows of fangs. The dragonsnake struck like lightning, taking a large chunk out of the rathtar’s bulbous, fleshy body. The rathtar shifted its attention away from the mean Sith and turned to lash out at the swamp creature that took a bite out of it.

Alaisy tapped her fingers impatiently against the hilt of her still lit saberstaff as the two creatures battled. Wyn eventually caught up, and his face lit up when he saw the dragonsake.

"Shenron!” Wyndell shouted. “I knew you were around here somewhere! Kick its ass ,buddy!” the Defender cheered.

The rathtar struggled to get a grip on the slithering dragonsake on its home terrain. Shenron grabbed ahold of one of the rathtar's thick tentacles and dragged it kicking and flailing into the swamp. The water bubbled. A stray tentacle lashed upward, then went limp. The water stilled.

Finally, the dragonsnake emerged, fangs dripping with ichor. The rathtar never resurfaced.

“Great work, Shenron!” Wyn called out to the large serpent. It hissed at him in response and did not seem to want anything to do with him. “No, it’s okay! You keep doing your thing! Thanks for the assist buddy!”

Shenron snorted and turned its head pointedly away. Dragonsnakes were proud and stubborn creatures, not pets. Wyn lacked the talent or attention span to truly master one. However, time had allowed the creature to at least remember him. Close enough.

“I can’t believe you actually have a dragonsnake,” Alaisy said, still processing everything she had just witnessed in the space of a few minutes.

“Mhm, I’m definitely growing on him, too,” Wyn nodded proudly. “Oh, and I just realized we don’t need to resupply if we wanted to try and catch one of these things."

Alaisy tilted her head. Wyndell grinned and pulled out a long cylinder from his pouch. “I forgot we had grenades. Figure a 'CryoBan would do the trick for keeping one alive?” the elder Tyris brother bounced the explosive up and down in his palm with a mischievous grin.

The tall Sith grit her teeth as she saw Wyndell play around with the cryogenic device. If he managed to keep his pet Shenron on a leash then maybe they would be able to capture one. The issue was keeping the Rathtar from eating them, from collapsing entire structures on top of them, and leaving them alive long enough to be picked up by the Shadow Academy.

“Toss the grenade when you see fit, Wyndell Tyris, just make sure it does not end up freezing me. I am afraid everything I carry with me is lethal, including the explosives. You are not carrying a breath mask with you by any chance?” Alaisy tapped the all too familiar dioxis canisters on her back, playfully making the metal canisters ring as she prodded them like a wind chime. She did name the two cylinders appropriately, after all.

The roguish Human gained a sudden itch in his throat as he saw the toxic gas containers, one hand reaching for his neck as he gave a short cough, like a Loth-cat about to hurl a hairball. That sensation disappeared when his curious, emerald eyes took in the lovely contours of her bottom.

“I think it’s better if we don’t use dioxis. There’s other ways to make me choke, y’know. Those Rathtar probably wouldn’t even notice the gas,” the Elder blinked twice before his eyes returned to look up at the giant woman. He found himself a pedestal to stand on as he saw the domed mask turn towards him.

The black-clad Sith noticed he was about to open his mouth.

One of his songs or battlecries no doubt.

“Adven-”

“Be quiet for one moment, please,” a loud hiss of air was heard as the Sith exhaled. She was feeling weary after calling upon the dark side in such rapid succession. The fights, so far, had been spread out and without rhythm. Wyn huffed and crossed his arms.

Tir’eivra closed her eyes as she drew in the sulfurous swamp air. Their surroundings were teeming with life and energy, even if the smell wasn’t pleasant. Wyndell could feel her pulling at, and raking in, the Force around them, taking in the vivacity of all flora and fauna. He could hear her scraping the blades of her durasteel nails together. It was an awful sound, and he wondered how that could possibly calm her down. He wanted to say something, and lifted an index finger up in the air, but a sudden whistle of her breath shushed him.

Her domed mask turned towards him, “Thank you, I feel better now. There is a cluster of dark power nearby. I suggest we approach it,” her voice seemed calmer, the usual smokiness of it returning, even if the voice modulator distorted it.

“Adventure!”

An eyelid twitched behind the transparisteel visor. Wyndell clearly had his own way of restoring his energy, if it was even possible to exhaust him in the first place.

With some effort Tyris reached out to the Force himself, in search of this ‘pool of darkness’, and while the woman in front of him radiated it off so strongly, he did feel something nearby. There were two things he picked up, one living and monstrous, the other was inorganic, both seemed to lie towards the west of the duo. He couldn’t make out how far away it was, and he knew how much patience the tall woman had. It was time to move out. Like before, his heart filled up with excitement and terror.

The duo skirted along the mostly collapsed hotlabs. Parts of their path were blocked by debris, forcing them to trek and slosh through murky morass and tall reeds.

“At least it’s not raining,” Wyn said optimistically. Two seconds later, it began pouring down. He expected a hiss from the woman, but she seemed fine with the cold wetness. He grumbled as his black-haired ponytail sank down sadly over his shoulder.

A bright smile formed on the Elder’s lips as he watched a drop of water drip off of the tip of his nose. The tall woman put a hand on her hip as she noticed his eyes crossing.

“Wyn!” Alaisy screeched out sharply, making sure she caught his attention over the clattering rain and loud croaking of amphibians. Wyndell looked up, and saw her pointing towards a patch of duracrete. He refocused and felt darkness wash over him as his head turned towards the direction.

Through renewed passion, Alaisy was able to recall the path they took before from memory, even after frantically escaping the collapsing complex before. Ahead of them lay the locked off laboratory, the door that was plastered in toxic and irritant warning signs, the room they ignored at the crossing.

A sharp nail aimed at a wall segment that had collapsed. Neon green-blue fluid spread from the inner complex tiles, onto the duracrete, ending up seeping into the Uskil swamp. The irritant had burned through much of the once solid floor. They both stepped around the sludge. Wyndell picked up a stray twig, bent over, and stuck it into the noxious goop. The wood sizzled and turned black, the substance burning like a highly corrosive acid. Raindrops simply floated on top, signifying it was more dense than water.

“That’s a-mean-oh acid,” Wyn pulled the branch out and tossed it away, “it looks like rain-water does not want to be part of the solution, it’s simply part of the precipitate.”

The Sith felt a sudden urge to give the Elder a nudge forward, before he rose to his feet. Then they heard a loud roar. It was unmistakable. There was a Rathtar behind there, no doubt bathing in that science experiment. It shook the duo to their core. Then a second yowl came. A cloud of rubble and dust came off the stone. Alaisy noticed it sounded very similar to the dying screech their earlier foes emitted. There was pain in its ‘voice’. And both of them wondered why the beast hadn’t rolled right at them and attacked yet.

Wyndell gave Alaisy a wicked smile, “You are far more suited for this than me. I mean, I would’ve dressed in a full set of latex if that was in the mission briefing, but you’re way ahead o-,” the Sith interrupted him.

“You are not wrong. Just let me know when you wish to be engulfed by an alchemical, alien symbiote,” she said with a mocking, Imperial tone, but he made sense, as much as that hurt to realize. If the collapsed wall did not ventilate the room enough, then toxic gas would likely kill them.

She swapped from her basic air-scrubbers to a fully sealed air-supply to breathe from. The symbiote-clad woman gave Tyris a thumbs up before she maneuvered between the loose rubbish, avoiding the colorful ooze. The pile of rocks was a small hill to climb, but when she stood atop it she was able to take in more of the space ahead. Wyndell followed right behind her. Unlike her, he wore normal, synthweave-hide boots, while the Sith was protected by ten inches of platform and heel. Whenever Alaisy wobbled she merely swapped to the full surface of her tall platforms, and when those slipped she pinned herself into rock with her knife-heel.

And that was where the roguish Human stopped, he watched as the tall woman ducked and fit through an opening that wasn’t covered in toxic sludge. Unfortunately any Rathtar visitors avoided it too when squeezing through, leaving the slug-like slime marks behind.

“I am quite happy you took the lead on this one. At least you didn’t go in dry,” Wyn chuckled.

“Ugh, Wyn! I can not see very much in here. Do you have a flare with you by any chance? I thought I saw one on your belt,” she said, frustrated.

“Sure thing, do you want me to shoot it straight in there?”

“Hold on, we do not want to ignite anything,” Alaisy shouted back. She could feel the sticky mucus sliding over her second skin. This was one of those moments where the heightened awareness was very unwelcome.

The latex-clad woman felt a strong draft pass through the building over her sensitive alchemical suit. She also didn’t see any vapours coming off the bright sludge. That was the Sith’s cue to switch back to her air scrubbers again. Tir’eivra breathed in and out a few times. She only smelled the same swamp air. There was no loss of concentration, nausea or dizziness. It seemed like the coast was clear for Wyndell too, time for some revenge.

“Get over here, it is safe!” there was amusement in her voice.

The Defender complied with reluctance, crawling through the same goop she had to go through. At least he didn’t feel everything through his clothes, and she had scraped up most of it already.

Once inside, he noticed just how dark it was. Tir’eivra was right next to him, pointing at a support pillar they could barely see.

“Shoot it over there.”

With a pop the flare landed right at the base of the column, coloring the room red.

And then…

A growl thundered.

It was close, so very close.

Alaisy unclipped her saberstaff and ignited the double crimson blade. Wyn flourished Doakes and Dexter and let the Sith take the lead, staying at a safe distance. They could see the puddles of experimental waste lying scattered through the laboratory, leaking out of vats, seeping through every pore of the building. Parts of the roof had given in and computer consoles were lifeless.

The Sith peered behind the pillar and tapped the flare with her boot to roll it forward. It tumbled and tumbled, accelerating downwards as a staircase became visible. Then they saw it, down below. A Rathtar, but this one looked different. Its large bulbous body had things attached to it. Blobs that looked like other Rathtar, many of them, four at least. Even its giant gaping mouth was partially covered by immature pieces of itself. It could sense them. It shrieked at the duo atop the stairs. An aura of dread permeated through the Force.

“Oh, no. That poor thing,” Alaisy took a step back without realizing.

Wyndell sidestepped away from the woman’s lightsaber, fearing it more than the monstrosity.

A long tentacle lashed out at the tall woman. With a snap it reached its limit, stopping just before her and going limp over the staircase. The abomination couldn’t move, many of its tendrils were stuck under metal pieces. Those same metal pieces looked an awful lot like debris from a space vessel. Part of the Nesolat must have come crashing down directly on top of the hot labs.

Another tentacle flung towards them, this time aimed at Tyris. It also reached short, by several meters even.

It howled again in frustration, or hunger, or pain, they really didn’t know. But the sensation in the Force became louder, making both Wyn’s and Alaisy’s ears ring.

“How long has it been here? The others must have fed it, or perhaps it fed on them?” Wyndel asked, while staying at a safe distance from both weapon and monster. He holstered Dexter, and was about to take his CryoBan grenade off of his belt.

The Rathtar raised one of its club-like tentacles in the air and balled it into a fist.

Wyndel could feel an invisible power coil around his neck, tighter and tighter, raising his feet above the ground. Alaisy jumped forward, slashing the two closest, limp, tentacles in twain.

The beast screeched and tried to raise its other mallet, but it was stuck between metal and stone. Its fist shaped club unfolded and let go of the Defender, gesturing with a hand-like wave at the Sith. A massive torrent of kinetic energy flung towards the Sith and hit her in the stomach. Her fingers let go of the buttons on her lightsaber. The blast propelled her into the duracrete wall behind her.

Tyris gasped for air as he dropped to the floor. Then he clutched the freezing grenade and tossed it down. With a crackle and fizz the canister exploded. Moisture transformed into shards of ice, spreading and spiking around the base of the stairs.

The black-clad woman shook her head and recoiled to the side the moment she noticed a stream of dripping toxic waste right next to her. Judging by a pulsating pain, her shoulder must have taken part of the blow. She grunted, letting the pain fuel her anger. She stood up, rolled her shoulder and snatched onto her hilt with a clawed hand, reigniting the weapon.

Wyndell grasped and rubbed his neck as he gathered the courage to look down the staircase. Shards of ice blocked the view. He turned his head to the side to see Tir’eivra click, clacking downwards.

“Use your blaster on the frozen wall when I get close enough Wyn,” Alaisy commanded with a stern, mechanical voice. She flicked her wrist to spin her Chromium Spine, catching it with her other hand, keeping her weapon at high alert for any emerging tentacles.

The Elder noticed that his flare was burning out and aimed Doakes at the icicles in front of him. The crimson light emitted from the tall woman’s lightsaber was enough for him to judge when she came close enough.

He fired off a cadre of blaster bolts just as the flare went dark. The resulting sound of shattering ice was music to the Defender’s ears.

The same club-like tentacle lurched ahead. The Rathtars sensory bulbs sought out the tapping of metal heels. This time, the Sith knew what to expect. She bolstered her speed by focusing deeply on her agony, fear and wrath. She used that will and determination to pull at the Force as she jumped towards the slithering Rathtar limb from the middle of the stairs. She rolled forwards in the air and slashed the clubbed feeler off cleanly. With animalistic grace she landed onto both platforms, slowly snaking her torso back up.

“Got em!” Wyndel cheered. He noticed the beast in front of her trying to bite away with all of its might. But it was stuck, its remaining tentacles all trapped under debris.

“I think we just did the impossible,” Alaisy exhaled deeply as she stared into the beast's tooth-laden maw. The Rathtar tried to pull itself forward, to no avail, and without the club-like tendril it seemed unable to use its unique powers. She pressed her eyebrows together as pain returned to her shoulder, adding a sharp sensation to her upper back as well. The Rathtar slumped its bulbous body as it exhausted itself.

“We should cut the rest of its limbs off, before it tears this whole place apart in a craving for food,” Tir’eivra said with a tired, modulated voice.

“I will make the call, hopefully it can survive without any of its appendages. I sure couldn’t,” Wyndell holstered his blaster as he turned away, some part of him felt sorry for the creature. Being cut limb from limb is terrible beyond belief, but he couldn’t watch it, especially not with a weapon as horrifying as a lightsaber. At the same time, he would not know how to incapacitate it. The real monsters were those researchers, the people from this Shadow Academy.

“Excellent, I apologize for any roaring and screeching that may impede your call,” Alaisy said with a hint of sadism in her voice. She licked her lips behind her mask’s nose-cup as she readied her Chromium Spine for the mutant’s surgery.